Mistakes
by Lena7623
Summary: Starts with an episode rewrite of AtS Season 3, Episode 17 “Forgiving.” What if Angel succeeded in what he started at the end of the episode “Forgiving?” Spoilers for up to that episode.
1. Chapter 1

"This isn't Angelus talking. It's me, Angel." Angel kept the calm look on his face that he had been forcing the entire time he had been in the room. He felt like he was going to explode at any minute, however. "You know that, right?"

Angel watched as Wes blinked once, the universal signal for people who can't talk for 'yes.' Blink once for yes, twice for no. 

"Good." Angel snatched the pillow from under Wes's head and pushed it down onto his face. He had so many things running through his head at the moment. How Wesley was going to pay for what had happened to his son. How Angel would never forgive him. There were many, many things that Angel wanted to say. Instead, he kept silent. He didn't want anyone running in and stopping him from this. 

Wesley struggled weakly, but he was already so helpless from the blood loss than it barely took a minute or so for him to stop struggling. Once Angel was sure that he was dead, he sunk down into the chair that was beside Wes's bed. He was still holding the pillow in his hand. 

It was suddenly as if Angel was hit by a brick wall of memories. Meeting Wes in the apartment in Los Angeles, with Wes all decked out in leather, trying be a 'rouge demon hunter,' and neither or nor Cordelia had the heart to tell him how ridiculous he actually looked. Seeing Wes tied up in the chair while Faith held the knife to his neck, and tasting the fear in the back of his throat that his friend might die. Seeing Wes in the hospital after the office blew up. Angel looking at him through the window briefly after he got shot. Wes begrudgingly forgiving him for firing all of them. Angel seeing him lead the people of Pylea in an uprising. More and more memories were popping up. 

Oh God, what had he done? He had killed one of his closest friends! He had made a terrible mistake. He shouldn't have done this. It was too rash. Wesley couldn't have meant any harm to Connor. Angel knew how much he loved Connor. He loved Connor almost as much as Angel does. Now there was only one way to fix this. 

It didn't take much for Angel to drain the rest of the blood from Wes. The demon inside of him howled for more, but there really wasn't much to take. It was still warm, so that gave Angel a little hope that this might work. 

Angel tore his wrist open with his teeth, opened Wes's mouth, and pressed his bleeding wrist to his lips. "Come on, Wes," he said, feeling the tears start to fall down his face. "Please drink. I'll do anything for you if you'll just drink this." 

After a few moments of nothing, he started to feel a gentle pull at his wrist. He wiped his eyes with his free hand and saw Wes's eyes flutter. Wes let out a soft moan. 

"Yes, that's good. Keep drinking it, Wes. Everything's going to be ok." To hell with the consequences: Angel couldn't handle losing both his son and his friend in one night. Angel reached out to stroke his friend's hair. He didn't even register the manic tinge in his voice as he continued to talk to Wes while Wes continued to drink. "Everything's going to be ok. We'll find Connor together and we'll fix everything. Everything's going to be alright." 


	2. Chapter 2

Angel had taken his friend out of the hospital through the window and was now hidden away with him in a cheap motel room that wasn't in the Hyperion. He couldn't take Wesley back to the Hyperion. He couldn't face the accusing stares of everyone over what he had done. He had both killed his friend and condemned him to a life that he would despise all in one night. If his friends didn't stake him on the spot at this point, he wouldn't be surprised.

He had laid Wes out on the lumpy cheap bed that the motel provided, both anxious for his friend to wake up and dreading it at the same time. He hadn't ever sired a vampire while he had a soul. Well, there was the time on the submarine, but he hadn't even stuck around long enough to find out what happened to the guy. He didn't know if Wes would wake up as a rampaging vampire with a thirst for blood and the knowledge on how to get it, or if anything that was Wes would still be in there.

Angel knew that the smartest thing to do right now was to stake Wes. He had even carried along a stake, just for that purpose. However, every time that he got up to do it, he could only stare at Wes's sleeping frame and would back down again and again. All that Angel really wanted to do right now was go stand on the roof of this building and wait for the coming sunrise, but he didn't think that this decrepit place could hold his weight, and bringing the deaths of people by causing the collapse of a building was not what he needed right now.

Angel was actually starting to wonder why it was taking so long for him to wake up. It had been hours. If the sun rose, Angel was just going to tell himself that it didn't work. It didn't always take. Sometimes the demon couldn't take a hold in the body for some reason or another. When he was Angelus, he figured out that it didn't work with truly holy nuns and priests. He had tried, and they just wouldn't wake up. God looking out for his own, possibly.

When Wes finally stirred, Angel nearly jumped out of his skin. He prepped the stake again. If he even showed a hint of evil soullessness, then Angel could stake him. He was sure of it. When Wes opened his eyes, it wasn't hunger that he saw in them. It was anger.

Wes was on Angel before he had the chance to react, shoving him hard against the wall. Angel could have easily pushed him off, but the shock of it caused his inaction. "What in the bloody hell did you do to me, Angel?" Wes screamed at him, slamming him against the wall again.

Well, of all the scenarios that Angel had prepared in his head, this wasn't it. He knew that he was staring at Wes, his Wes, and not some demon who had set up house in his body. That didn't make sense. That wasn't how it worked. He felt the stake slip from his hand as the words started pouring out of his mouth. "I didn't know what else to do. I wasn't thinking clearly, Wes. I didn't go in there to kill you, I swear."

Wes pulled away from him, shaking with anger. "That wasn't what I was talking about, Angel. Why didn't you leave me for dead? You should have left me dead!" Wes slumped down onto the floor. "I lost Connor, Angel. I deserve to be dead. I betrayed all of you."

"We'll get him back, Wes. We can fix all of this," Angel said, trying to sound reassuring.

"Like you 'fixed' me, Angel?" Wes laughed bitterly. "I'm not sure how much I trust your ability if I'm your prime example!"

Angel sat down on the floor next to Wes, sighing as he did it. Sighing was a human gesture, but if there ever was a time that he felt vulnerably and stupidly human, now was it. "You're really you, aren't you?"

"In all my training in the Council I've never read of a vampire who's soul survived the initial turning." Angel couldn't help but hear the scholar in Wes at the moment. If this was anyone else, Wes would be fascinated.

"It never worked on any of the nuns or priests I tried it on," Angel offered. "I always figured that it didn't work on holy people. They all just died, though. It was like their body rejected it completely."

Wes snorted. "I'm far from what anyone could consider holy." Wes pulled his knees up to his chest. "I remember something, though. It was like a nightmare. I was fighting with something, a demon, but it wasn't any species that I was familiar with. I think I won, though."

"Maybe that has something to do with it," Angel said, sneaking a glance at Wes. Unlike every other vampire who had woken up that he had seen, Wes didn't wake up with his vampire face on. Usually, you were so hungry when you woke up that it came up naturally.

"Do the others know anything?" Wes asked.

"I kind of stole you out of the hospital window, so I don't think so," Angel answered. Now he could see that he shouldn't have went into that hospital room by himself. He should have taken Fred or Gunn up on their offer to go inside with him. Maybe with them in the room, he could have controlled himself.

"I'm sure that they know something by now, with the empty hospital bed," Wes replied. "What should we do now?"

"I suppose we should tell the others," Angel said, dreading it already.

"That's going to go over well," Wes said with a shake of his head.


	3. Chapter 3

The conversation went over about as well as Wesley predicted. Fred cried, Gunn looked stoically angry, and Lorne seemed only to want another Sea Breeze. If Angle didn't already know that regular alcohol didn't affect Lorne normally, he'd swear that the Pylean was an alcoholic. Angel especially dreaded telling Cordy when she returned from her vacation, where they didn't seem to have the handy invention called a phone, but at least that could wait for a while.

Once everyone went upstairs to his or her respective rooms, Angel was once again left alone with Wesley. "I'm surprised that Gunn didn't stake me on sight," Wesley mumbled.

Angel thought that Wesley sounded…almost disappointed by this fact. He shook that thought out of his head. "I'm a little shocked that all of them didn't stake me as soon as I told them." Angel also realized that Wesley hadn't look at him since they left the motel room. "Do you need me to drive you home?"

"I'm perfectly capable of driving myself home, thank you. I'm dead, not blind." Wesley started to head for the door, and then looked out the window and stopped. "Where's my car?"

"Actually, I think that Justine stole it." Thinking of that reopened the wound in his heart that was Connor. Thinking too much of Connor right now just made him want to stake himself and get it over with. He had lost his son, possibly forever. Thinking of that too much reminded him of what Justine had done to Wesley and, in turn, what Wesley had done to Connor, which only brought up what Angel had done to Wesley. By turning Wesley into a vampire, he had condemned him to one of his worst nightmares. Any anger that Angel might have harbored toward Wesley had died when Wesley did.

Angel was interrupted from his inner monologue when he heard Wesley let out a giggle, which was kind of odd because Wesley didn't giggle. Well, Wesley had last giggled back when it was just Angel, Cordy, and Wesley at the detective agency, and Cordy would tickle Wesley when it looked like she was losing an argument so that she could still claim her one-hundred percent winning streak.

This giggle didn't sound anything like those from yester-year. It sounded a little more like Wesley was losing it. "I frankly didn't think my day could get any worse. I steal my best friend's son, lose him to the enemy, get my throat slit, am killed by said best friend, am turned into a vampire, and now my car has been stolen. I can now comfortably say that my night cannot get any worse!"

Angel watched in horror as his friend's face changed to its vampire form. Angel knew that Wesley probably didn't even realize it. "And I'm bloody starving," Wesley hissed. "I can hear their blood coursing through their veins even though they're floors away from us. It's driving me insane."

"That's at least something that's a quick fix," Angel said. He started toward the little fridge that he kept behind the front desk, while still keeping an eye on Wesley. "That's what I deal with every day."

Angel emptied a packet of blood into a mug and put it in the microwave for Wesley. Once the blood was properly heated up enough to make it palatable, he passed it to him. He watched as Wesley greedily chugged it down to its last drop. After a moment, Wesley's face changed back, so now he looked more like Wesley and less like the demon with which he was sharing his body.

Wesley looked much calmer than before. "I suppose I shall need that ride, then." He set the mug down on the desk.

"Sure, let me just grab my keys." Angel snatched his keys off of the desk and made his way for the door, with Wesley in tow. He hopped into his car and, once Wesley was in beside him, started the engine and drove off into the night and toward Wesley's apartment.

When they got there, Wesley stopped just at the doorway of his apartment. "Can I…can I go inside?" he asked, sounding confused.

Angel replied by gently pushing him through the threshold. "The invite only applies if there are any occupants that are still alive. He had thought that was something that Wes would know, being both a former Watcher and just their regular resident 'book guy' as everyone put it. Maybe he was starting to go into shock or something. Considering the night and how it was going, Angel wouldn't be shocked.

After only another brief pause, Wes walked through the door unimpeded, and Angel hung to the back. "Aren't you going to come in?" Wes asked. "Not like you need an invitation. I am dead now, you know."

Taking a deep breath, Angel walked inside as well, shutting the door behind him. "I didn't figure you would want me to come in, ah…you know, considering…"

"I wasn't aware what I wanted mattered at this point," Wes said, looking pointedly at Angel for a moment. Absently, he reached up to feel his neck, where Justine had slit his throat not long ago. "No scar…" Wes said softly, probably more to himself than to Angel.

"No, there wouldn't be," Angel said, somewhat babbling by now. "The wound was still open and healing, so the change would have taken it away." Angel couldn't help but notice that some of the lines that had formed on Wes's face over the last couple of years (due to the constant stress of their lives) had disappeared as well. Now he looked as young as when Angel had first seen him back in Sunnydale, when he was still a green kid who didn't know anything about the real world.

"I suppose you're right," Wes said, suddenly looking up at the ceiling, just staring for a moment. "The children in the apartment above me are having a slumber party and whispering about a boy in their class that they say is cute." He blinked, his eyes turning briefly yellow.

Angel frowned. "You may not want to live around so many other people now," he said. "Just a suggestion, but being able to hear people so easily may not be good for you."

Wes hadn't turned his head from the ceiling yet. "You may be right," he said, still not looking at Angel. "I'm not sure if I can take this." Angel wasn't sure if he meant just living near people or all of it. He hoped that it was the former.


	4. Chapter 4

Angel worried about Wes all through the rest of the night and into the next day. He prayed that his mention of the slumber party in the apartment above him wouldn't lead to anything that he knew Wesley would regret later. Even with at least some semblance of a soul, as it sounded like Wesley had, sometimes urges could take over rational thought. Angel had spent years away from all serious human contact in an effort to get some form of control over himself. If Wesley lasted long enough, Angel wondered if Wesley would have to do something similar as well. He hoped not.

Angel hoped that Wesley was sleeping. There was no way to truly tell, though. He doubted that Wesley would answer his phone when he called, and even when he broke down and did, he got no answer. It was the middle of the day, though, so he couldn't exactly leave and go check, and didn't think that sending Fred or Gunn was a good idea. Fred would get upset, and Gunn might get angry and stake Wes on principle.

When the sun finally set, Angel all but ran out of the hotel and drove over to Wesley's apartment, banging on the door until he finally heard Wesley call out "Come in," to which Angel tried to knob and was surprised to find it unlocked.

"Why is your door unlocked?" Angel asked as he walked inside.

Wesley was sitting in a corner of the room, away from all the lights, staring at the door. "If someone wants to break in and steal my things or kill me, they're in for a nasty surprise, aren't they?" he asked flatly to Angel.

"I suppose," Angel said, sitting down on the sofa, still looking at Wesley sitting on the floor in the corner. "Are you willing to come back to the hotel?"

Wesley shook his head vigorously, but then sighed and stood up anyway. "I don't really have a choice, do I?" he asked, looking toward Angel.

Angel shook his head. "Technically I'm your sire and you should do what I say," he pointed out, although he wasn't sure if he could really push that authority if needed. Familial authority hadn't exactly worked with Spike, but Spike was far more willful than Wesley. "Plus, I have blood at the hotel."

Wesley seemed to see the logic in that, or was just willing to do what his sire wanted. Angel wasn't sure which one it was, but right now he just knew that he'd be able to watch over Wesley much better at the hotel where there were FAR less people around him than in his apartment where they were completely surrounded by people in neighboring apartments. At the hotel, they only had three people at the moment, and Angel truly wasn't sure if Lorne was…edible in the traditional vampiric sense.

Wesley motioned for Angel to lead the way out of the apartment, and he did so, making Wesley actually lock his door behind him this time. They walked down to Angel's car and got inside.

"Do you think I should report my car stolen?" Wesley asked as Angel drove toward the Hyperion.

"I can buy you a better car now," Angel said simply. "I kind of stole you from a hospital. The police are going to be curious if you come in with a completely healed neck, reporting your car stolen."

Wesley nodded, then seemed to think of something. "With what money are you going to get me this 'new car'?"

Angel smirked slightly. He couldn't help it. "I didn't pay you guys a salary or pay for the hotel with the money we made with a detective business," he pointed out. "I have more money saved than I can really count, hidden away in different accounts and such."

Wesley chuckled. "I kind of figured that, especially after buying Cordelia all the designer clothes last year," he said, and then his face fell. "God…Cordelia…how do we even tell her this? Do you know when she's coming back?"

Angel shook his head. "I don't know, and where they are apparently doesn't have a damn phone." He wasn't aware that there was anywhere on this planet that you couldn't call now. "She's probably going to hit me with some big cross or something for this."

Wesley turned and narrowed his eyes at Angel. "I'd do it myself if it wouldn't hurt the bloody hell out of me as well," he said. Angel could still see the rage boiling underneath the surface of Wesley's demeanor. "I'm somewhat amazed that I still feel the need to protect myself even though I hate what I've become."

"Nothing on this planet is naturally willing to not protect itself in some way," Angel pointed out to him. He was already pulling up his car up to the Hyperion. He had driven well over the speed limit to get there, but he felt uncomfortable having Wesley outside at all. Until he had some real control over his urges, Angel would probably continue to feel that way. "I think that's why people are so freaked out by suicidal urges in others." He glanced at Wesley as he parked. "Are you feeling that way at all?" He had to ask.

Wesley simply glared at Angel for a moment before answering. "If wanting to go out and stare at the sun in the middle of the day is any indication, then yes, you may call me suicidal." He then sighed, a now unnecessary gesture for him. "And yet I don't. I don't get it." He then went silent as he got out of the car and headed inside of the Hyperion.

For reasons that he didn't know, Angel didn't hear anyone else around in the Hyperion when he walked inside. It was probably for the best, though. Gunn was likely to get angry if he was around Wesley for more than a few minutes right now. Angel could hear Fred sobbing in her bedroom all of today while he waited to go and get Wes, so her being around right now wouldn't be good, either. He didn't hear Lorne around, either, but Lorne kept himself busy in the evenings instead of hanging around too much around the hotel, whether it was just meeting other friends of his, making new business contacts (he was still wanting to open another bar, just not on the same possibly cursed spot), or just carousing around.

Wes seemed to notice the same thing. "I think the new me cleared out the hotel before I even got here," he muttered, looking around the hotel lobby absently.

"I'm sure they put together that I was going to bring you here as soon as I could get out into the city," Angel pointed out to him. "Probably better that they all went out right now."

"Why, so that I wouldn't try to eat them?" Wes asked him. "You did say something about food, right?" Angel could tell that he was still starving. He had only had the mug of blood last night to keep him from literally attacking his friends. Not enough to fill up a new vampire. Angel was going to have to feed him a lot more to keep him on an even keel.

Angel simply nodded and went to the small fridge were he kept the packs of blood that he drank. He was going to have to start ordering more if he was going to keep Wes fed as well as himself. Not that the butcher he got them from would mind one bit. He pulled one pack out and put it into the mug for Wes before popping it into the microwave. Soon enough, he was handing the mug of piping hot blood to Wes, who took it and greedily swallowed it all down.

Once he was done, he set it aside and made a slight face. "I don't like the taste of it," he admitted. "I've never even had human blood as a vampire and I know that doesn't taste like it should."

"It's…kind of an instinct thing," Angel admitted to him.

"Just bloody lovely," Wes muttered. "I can't help but already know that what I'm drinking isn't the real thing."

"You get used to it, Wes," Angel said. "I sweat it."

"I'm not sure I want to get used to it," Wes replied, looking away.


	5. Chapter 5

After finishing off drinking the mug of blood that Angel had given him, Wesley wandered off, wandering into one of the less repaired parts of the Hyperion. He didn't want to be around anyone, and had told Angel as much before going off. Wesley figured that the older vampire would be able to hear him and keep tabs on him to make sure that he 'didn't do something stupid,' but right now Wesley wanted to be alone with his own thoughts.

He figured that it was only a matter of time before Angel had him move into this hotel. He wondered if he should just disappear one night. He feared being around his friends, the people that he had grown to consider his family. How did Angel stand this? Even though he wasn't even on the same floor as Fred, he had heard her when she came inside the hotel and headed to her room. What was worse was that he could **smell** her. Not just the perfume that she was wearing or the shampoo that she used. He could smell the blood running through her veins. The hot blood that he assumed tasted as sweet as she was.

He was in a corner of one of the rooms in the hotel. He had avoided the wing that he had once chased Fred down, but it still looked similar to him. He could still remember that possessiveness that he had felt that night, and couldn't help but feel the stirrings of it again. Now he could take her by force if he had to. He didn't have to worry about big bad Gunn just sucker punching him or whatever.

He shook his head, pulling slightly as his hair as he tried to clear his head. Fred had made her choice, and Gunn was still his friend. He couldn't keep thinking like this. He needed to get out of here and far away. Angel would just follow him and bring him back, though. If Angel was anything, he was stubborn. He'd never get away from Angel if the vampire was insistent on keeping him around, so he'd have to deal with being in LA right now. He may have to put his foot down about moving in here, though. He needed time to be alone. To not have Angel hovering around, either physically presence or at least listening in on him would be good for at least a few hours.

He needed to figure out if he could be around anyone but Angel, though. He couldn't stay cloistered forever, after all. Other than Angel, no one was around right now but Fred. She would do as good as anyone else, he figured. Maybe even better, as, unlike Gunn, she wouldn't yell at him if Wesley looked at her in a perceived 'wrong' or 'hungry' way. His hunger wasn't gnawing at him like it was before, at least. Maybe this would go OK.

Slowly getting up, he then made his way down to Fred's room on the second floor, knocking lightly on the door. He could hear so well that he could actually picture what she was doing in there. She had to be lying on the bed because he heard the bedsprings move enough to indicate the weight (not that she weighed all the much at all), and listened to her dainty footsteps as they headed toward the door.

When the door swung open, her eyes widened when she realized whom it was. "Oh, Wes," she said softly, looking up at him as if she was studying him like one of her books. "You look so different."

His hand reached up absently to his face. He had lost his glasses at the hospital and had never put on his spare pair from his apartment. His eyes were perfect. He didn't need them anymore. Angel had embraced him with a few days worth of stubble as well, so he supposed he looked quite rough right now, and not even to mention the pallor that came with what Angel had done to him. "Yes…I suppose I do," he admitted, hand dropping. "Can we talk?"

She nodded, coming out from the bedroom and shutting the door behind her. "Maybe we can go outside?" she suggested. She looked like she was uncomfortable with the idea of him being in her and Gunn's bedroom, and he supposed that it wasn't exactly proper for him to go in, either.

He simply nodded and started to walk toward the stairway, leading her downstairs and out into the garden on the side of the hotel. He had actually been the one to weed it and tend to the flowers that naturally grew in the garden. He supposed he could still do it now, although he'd have to do it at night rather than during the daylight. He'd miss seeing the sunlight hitting the petals in the mornings. "I suppose this is a lot to take in," he said simply, not looking at her, but instead focusing on the flowers around him.

"That's an understatement," Fred said quickly to him. He could feel her standing right behind him, but he couldn't quite bring himself to turn around right now. "First we learn that you take Connor away because of some prophecy that you read about but didn't tell anyone about, and before anyone can really fully understand that, Angel KILLS you and then turns you into a vampire out of remorse. Yeah, I'd say a lot to take in. That's like…a YEAR'S worth to take in."

He didn't say anything for a moment, still not looking at her. "How do you tell someone that you think one of your best friends is going to kill his own son and there's not a damn thing you can do about it?" he asked her. "I knew that any harm that came to him would destroy Angel. I thought I was saving him from himself!"

She gasped as he turned around and finally looked at her. "Everyone was happy! You and Gunn were just starting a relationship, Cordy was picking up where she left off with the Groosalug, and Angel was planning the future of Connor. How _dare_ I step in on any of that with saying, 'Oh, by the way, Angel might kill his own son, and I'm trying to do everything in my power to find a way to prevent it, and this is the only thing I can come up with'? You would have thought that I was insane!"

"You're sounding insane now!" Fred protested. "You know that Angel would have handed you Connor and told you to run if he thought that he might actually hurt him. Did you ever think of that?" she asked.

She had a point. If he had said something, maybe this whole mess could have been prevented, but he had thought that he was doing the right thing. "And then what? I head off into the sunset with Connor, and Angel eventually tracks me down? I had to disappear without anyone knowing what was going on! The quicker that I could put a lot of distance between Connor and LA, the better. And I was right! If I had succeeded, Connor wouldn't be in some…hell dimension!"

"You can't know that!" Fred exclaimed, looking up at him with those wide, innocent eyes. "Why didn't you talk to me? Just because I started dating someone doesn't mean that you couldn't come to any of us? Me or Gunn, or even Cordy when she was still here. Or what about Lorne? He wasn't involved with anything!"

Wesley honestly had no idea why he didn't try going to Lorne. He may have been able to see that the prophecy was a fake. He at least would have seen what happened when he tried this nonsense. "I wasn't thinking clearly!" he said simply.

"No kidding! That's exactly when you go and talk to other people!" Fred sighed, sitting down on the bench in the garden. "Anything would have been better than this. Connor's gone, and now you're…"

"I'm a vampire," he said, calmly, looking down at her. "I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster," she said, standing back up and looking him over. "You don't look like a monster to me. You would have hurt me or something if you were."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "That's the point of a vampire, Fred. They don't look like monsters until it's too late." He grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her closer. "They lull you into a false sense of security until you can't escape. They wear masks."

She had gasped when he grabbed her and tugged her closer to him, reaching out and putting her hands on his shoulders to catch herself. "But you're still YOU. I know you're still in there."

"Am I still me?" he asked, not even realizing that his face had changed into its demonic visage. "Am I still a man? Do I look like one to you?" When she didn't answer, he shook her. "Are you afraid of me?"

Even though he could smell the fear coming off of her in heady waves, she quickly shook her head. A part of him knew that he wasn't thinking clearly right now. All he could do was smell the sweet blood flowing through her. "You should be," he said in a low growl, grabbing her by the hair and tugging her head to one side, exposing her neck.

"WES!"

Angel's voice had brought Wesley enough back to his senses, letting go of Fred and turning toward Angel, briefly hissing before bolting, jumping over the garden fence. He had to get away. By the time that Angel had leapt over it as well, Wesley was long gone.


End file.
